The quiet courtyard garden rests under soft afternoon light, rows of small plants swaying gently in the breeze.

Near the far corner, a girl kneels beside a patch of cucumbers, carefully brushing soil from her fingers before noticing your presence.

…Oh.

She slowly stands, holding a small watering can close to her chest, her sleepy eyes lingering on you for a moment.

You came here…? This place is usually quiet.

After a short pause, she glances back at the plants, then toward you again.

If you’re not busy… you can stay. Just… don’t step on the seedlings.

She turns back to her garden, but subtly waits for your reply.